


Fireflies Stuck In Bottles

by notebookthief



Category: The Legend of Zelda: Breath of the Wild
Genre: Enemies to Friends to Lovers, Idiots in Love, Light Angst, M/M, Nonbinary Link, Selectively Mute Link (Legend of Zelda), Slow Burn, bc u kno. ganon, but before link follows zelda to the ancient columns, first chapter takes place after revali accepts being a champion, he uses he/him pronouns for convenience but he is in fact nonbinary, i say lovers but actually its just to crushes cause they dont get a chance to like. get together, ill update tags as things progress, im kinda piecing together my own timeline here so bear with me
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2020-08-18 22:38:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 15,234
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20199319
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/notebookthief/pseuds/notebookthief
Summary: Revali can't get the Hylian swordsman off his mind, and he's determined to best him.A selection of moments between Revali and Link pre-calamity, edging towards something they never got to see come to fruition.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> i fuck up the timeline and revali is a dumb dumb bastard

The first time Revali meets Link is not when the princess comes to ask him to be a pilot, nor when he accepts. It’s when she comes to check in and see how he’s faring, as if she doubts him - or perhaps out of curiosity, born from her researcher’s mind. He’s heard of Link, of course; the knight with the sword that seals the darkness, the chosen hero of Hyrule. There are rumors that he bested adults in swordplay as a child, and has defeated too many monsters to count. Revali thinks that’s probably a load of hooey, and even if it isn’t, he certainly can’t be much of a bowman in comparison. But there’s still that underlying resentment brewing in him, and it only starts to boil when he can finally put a face to the name. 

He’s at home, for once, when they come. Tuning up his bow, giving it a quick polish. The princess is as put-together as ever, her fine clothes without a speck of dust, hair braided and pulled into a top-knot. He only intends to give a quick glance, make it appear as if he is too busy to notice them. But he catches the blue tunic of her knight, and properly looks up despite himself. 

_ He must be the chosen knight _ , Revali thinks, though he doesn’t look like it. The blue tunic is the giveaway - no one wears that blue but those recognized by the King, and if he’s the one accompanying the princess, then there’s no doubt of who he is. But he wears plain trousers and boots instead of armour, and small hoops in his ears that probably aren’t regulation. And his hair is unkempt, pulled haphazardly into a low ponytail, two locks still hanging by his face, hiding the rise of sharp cheekbones. For the princess’s appointed knight, he looks rather… undignified. He can feel his resentment growing already. 

Link is looking him directly in the eye, stony face completely unreadable, and he realizes he’s spent too long analyzing the knight. He looks at the princess instead - cooly, of course. Like he couldn’t be bothered to give her the attention she’s so used to. 

“Revali,” she says in greeting, and inclines her head slightly. He sets aside his bow, but doesn’t stand up quite yet. “I was told I could find you here.”

“And you found me,” he says, tone just this side of uninterested. “What brings you?” he asks, though he knows, logically, she’s here about Medoh. Or perhaps to give him her knight to train him. He likely needs it. 

“I’ve been checking in with all the Champion’s over how they’re faring with the Divine Beasts,” she says, confirming his initial guess. “How have things been progressing?”

“I’ve already mastered it,” he says, puffing out his chest ever so slightly. Just enough to make the feathers stand out proud and sleek. And it’s true enough anyway - not like she can board Medoh and check. 

He expects the princess to look surprised - perhaps an expression of awe and respect, or admiration. After all, they don’t know much about the Divine Beasts, and it seems unlikely that she would come to check on him if the other champions weren’t having issues. But she only looks pleased - no relief, no stars in her eyes. As if she expected the news, even. Perhaps she knew better than to doubt him. 

“That’s wonderful news,” she says. “I was worried about the controls, at first, given the necessity of a sheikah slate, but everyone seems to have had no trouble with it. I’m glad the miniature ones work after all, in all cases.”

Ah, yes. He has the slate on a shelf. A smaller version of the slate the princess carries, it only has a map of his Divine Beast, but it activates Medoh, and that’s really what he needs. Every champion received one from the monks after completing their trials. The princess had been worried, he remembers, because she has yet to make her own work - and it’s true that Revali thinks there are some functions missing on his own. But it does what he needs. 

“Doubting me, princess?” he goads. He expects Link to react to his taunt - other knights would have. But he’s turned away, playing with - a dragonfly? 

“Of course not,” she replies, unfazed, and it snaps his attention back to her. “The other champions have fared just as well. Daruk was having a spot of trouble, but… my knight helped him, and he’s been doing well since.” She says the last part coldly, stiffening up some. Link still hasn’t turned his attention to the two of them, the dragonfly having settled on his finger. His stillness is unnerving. 

And to think he helped one of the champions with a Divine Beast. It seems far-fetched. “Well, we are the chosen ones,” he says, forcibly turning his attention back to the princess. 

“Yes,” she replies - soft and almost bitter. He must have pinched a nerve over her own failures. “The chosen ones.”

Link finally shifts, and his gaze cuts into him briefly. Emotionless, still, but hard. Revali refuses to look at him. 

He lets the moment hang briefly, but even he is uncomfortable with the tenseness, so he stands up and breaks the silence. “Do you have any other business here?” he asks the princess, hoping it doesn’t sound too dismissive. Just a little. 

She clearly pulls herself out of her head. “Yes, actually,” she says, voice still a little tight. “I’ll be staying in the village for a little while to do some research on nearby shrines. First will be the one in the village, and then I’ll move on to surrounding areas. There must be some answers somewhere.”

How dull. To be honest, he expected her to leave right then - he hopes her research keeps her occupied enough. Though he’s close to fully mastering his new move, he still has more training to do, and he does not want to be interrupted by her… somewhat useless questions. 

“Link - my knight - will not be accompanying me for most of this trip,” she continues. “Would it be all right if he makes use of some of your training grounds?”

Revali’s eyes dart to Link, then back. He doesn’t really want to share his flight range, especially not with a Hylian, and even more especially not with Link. But it would be a bit too rude to refuse when he has no outward reason to do so. And perhaps Link will only use the regular training grounds, where they practice not only with bows, but spears and swords as well. It would certainly be more fitting. “I don’t see why not,” he says. “Perhaps he’ll learn a thing or two.”

Link’s eyes snap to him, just like before. Looks him up and down. It’s the most seen Revali has ever felt - it feels like he’s being exposed. He cocks a brow at Link, keeping the smug look on himself, like he’s waiting for a challenge. But Link just removes his gaze, not an ounce of fire in his eyes. It grates on Revali more than it should. 

“Good,” the princess says, oblivious. “I should go meet with the elder then. If any problems arise with Medoh, please let me know immediately.” She inclines her head again, ever so slightly, and he inclines his own to the same degree. He doubts very much that anything would happen if he chose not to give her that respect, but he’s already tested things quite a bit by remaining sitting for the majority of their meeting, and he needs to stay on the fine line of outright disrespect and pride. “I look forward to seeing you again,” she says. 

“Likewise,” he says, as cool as his initial greeting, just to give the impression that he says it only as a courtesy - and he does. She smiles at him nonetheless before making her leave, turning to exit the landing he calls home and make her way up the stairs. Link obediently follows her, and when he turns Revali can see the sword strapped to his back - too large for a one-handed sword but too small for two hands, emblazoned with the wings of Hyrule, laid with gold. The sword that seals the darkness, quiet on the swordsman’s back, strapped on with soft leather like the sword of a traveler. Revali will always be a bowman, but he can’t help but stare at that sword, and the back it hangs from, as it disappears. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> inspired by my friend saying revali is just eridan homestuck and the two of us galaxy braining over link and revali being kismesises but actually they have underlying pale feelings but theyre too emotionally stupid to work through that. this has nothing to do with the fic i just thought yall should know. sorry you had to read a fic by a homestuck
> 
> also i wrote this after drinking 2 litres of mountain dew and eating an entire pumpkin pie so if there's mistakes it's because i was too jittery to notice thank you


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> [mary poppins voice] feed the birds

It’s been several days since the princess and her knight came to Rito Village, and every second they stay grates on Revali more than the last. Usually it’s the princess who comes to bother him at the range, dragging him from his important training to see if his slate works on the village shrine, or to see if he would land Medoh so she can examine it. She’s even asked to do a physical exam on him, not an ounce of embarrassment on her face, and though he’s quite confident in his physique, he refused. Very swiftly. And with much alarm. But still quite dignified, of course. 

Despite this, he often finds his irritation drifting towards Link. He had attempted to goad him the day after their initial meeting - see if he could get a rise from the stony swordsman - but he’s remained completely neutral. He’s not even focused once on Revali since he made that “chosen ones” comment to the princess. It’s like he’s only half there. He’s never bothered Revali, at least, staying away from the flight range to train with the other Rito warriors. Revali hears he’s more than bested all of them in not only swordplay, but also archery, which leaves a sour taste in his mouth. There’s no way he can compete with Revali without wings, of course, but the thought of such a talent lying in a Hylian who’s likely never worked for his skill is… well, to put it bluntly, revolting. He spends far too much time dwelling on it instead of working on his new move, and he can tell he’s getting just slightly sloppier because of it. If only the two of them would leave, he could focus properly and finally perfect it. 

He usually returns home from the flight range in the late evening, when the children are just being tucked into bed. He has to pass the princess and Link at the inn on his way up if he walks, and he usually has to for all the soreness in his wings. This typically isn’t a problem - the princess goes to sleep early, apparently, since she’s always in bed, and Link never even acknowledges him. He just stares out into the distance, chest heavy with his breaths, polishing whatever weapon he has on hand (with the exception of the master sword). Last night it was a falcon bow, altered to be a quick shot. A bow Revali has handled many, many times. 

Tonight, though, Link is nowhere to be seen. Odd, since night is the most vulnerable time should any assassins want to hurt the princess. Revali supposes one could consider it safe enough to leave the princess’s shadow - after all, they hardly spend their days together. He puts it out of his mind and continues up the stairs, only to be hit with the most divine smell. Curious, he walks a little faster. 

As he approaches the communal kitchen the smell is stronger, deep and buttery. Now that he’s closer he make out the distinct smell of hearty salmon, as well. He expects to see - well, he’s not sure who, but certainly not Link. But there he is, stirring a pot over the flame, a tiny smile on his face. It lifts up his features to add a boyishness to him, rather than his usual severity. When he looks up and spots Revali, though, the expression drops, and he resumes his blank-faced stare. It makes Revali’s tail feathers bristle. 

He should have just walked away for the night and gone to bed. He knows by now there’s no point in antagonizing Link directly, since nothing comes of it. But he hasn’t eaten since the rice balls he had at noon, and it’s quarter to ten now, and he must admit it - the smell of whatever Link is cooking is too pleasant to ignore. 

“Are they not feeding you enough at the palace?” he asks, quirking his brow. 

To his surprise, Link pulls something out of a pouch on his hip - a journal and a piece of charcoal. He quickly writes something, then holds it up for Revali to see. He has to take a few steps forward to read the smudged writing. 

_ No, they don’t. I always cook extra meals.  _

Revali glances up at Link, then back to the journal, then back to Link. He’s sure his beak is hanging open, but he’s a little shocked. 

He finally gathers himself after a moment, standing up straight, crossing his wings over his chest. “So you do talk, albeit in a very odd way. I was beginning to think someone cut your tongue out.” Not his best response, but it will have to do. But - is that a scowl?

It is. Link has a scowl on his face, so small that it’s basically just his eyebrows turned down. The look sends a shiver down Revali’s spine. It’s the first rise he’s ever gotten out of Link, the first change in expression he’s had in response. It’s absolutely  _ delicious _ . 

Link puts the journal back in the pouch, along with the charcoal, and takes a seat by the pot. As he gives it a stir, Revali looks to see what it is - risotto, he thinks, which seems a little… delicate, for what he assumed Link’s taste would be. His stomach gurgles as he looks at it. Revali goes ramrod straight. 

Link obviously hears it, because he glances up at the other, his head cocked. It makes a lock of hair brush along his jaw. 

“Make sure to clean up after yourself,” Revali says, moving to turn away, but Link stands up quickly enough to give him pause. He grabs a bowl and a spoon - ah, ignoring him again then. So he can leave. He does so, stomach making it embarrassingly known how unhappy it is to be moving away from the food. There’s likely still some bits of jerky in his home that he can at least snack on. 

A hand grabs his shoulder just as he leaves the entrance to the kitchen. It’s burning hot, feverish, and though Revali has never touched a Hylian before it feels like an abnormal heat for them. He whips around, nearly bumping his chest into Link’s blank face, a shot of adrenaline rushing through him. Surely the jab he made earlier hadn’t been so harsh? 

No, it appears it wasn’t. Link is holding out the bowl he grabbed, now laden with salmon risotto, to him. Awkwardly, as though Link shoving it at him weren’t clue enough that he should take it, he slides it onto his wing. Once his hand is free, Link grabs his notebook and charcoal from earlier to jot something down. 

_ Replenish your strength _ is written on the paper once Link holds it up.  _ You need food to heal your muscles. _

Revali’s feathers are all puffed up in embarrassment, but he keeps his face as neutral as he can. He’s really not sure how to reply to that. After spinning his wheels for a moment, he decides a reply isn’t necessary, and stalks off to his home. He could have sworn Link smiled at him, that same smile he had before Revali had walked in on his cooking, but he’s sure it was his imagination. 

The risotto is, as the smell implied, delicious. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> realizes ive fucked up the timeline and now im just cutting out the pieces and pasting them in the scrapbook that is this fic. this is fine


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> revali catches link training at the palace after several paragraphs of setup. not as sexy as it sounds

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i am frankenstein and the timeline of this fic is my monster
> 
> sorry its shorter this time but also like. does it need to be longer. no. 
> 
> also ty all for the kind comments i dont comment back cause i wanna keep the count accurate but ily all ur so sweet it makes my day every time i read one im puppy eyes emoji and pringles cat

Revali doesn’t speak with Link again during his and the princess’s trip. Not entirely on purpose, either - after the knight received a letter, he took to shadowing the princess properly, following her out into the canyon and hills as she conducted her research. It meant that they’d leave early and come back late, enough so that there were days that Revali never saw them. And with them out of the village entirely, the princess ceased to drag him from his training, allowing him to focus properly. Finally. 

It’s been a month since then. Daruk had suggested having an inauguration ceremony for Link - two months too late, of course. But Mipha had concurred, as had Urbosa, so neither the princess nor Revali could stop it from happening; and truth be told, Revali isn’t sure he’d be able to convince the others not to anyway. A chief, two princesses, and a headstrong Goron don’t exactly make for great listeners. 

The ceremony was this afternoon. Perfect weather - mild, with a small breeze just rustling their clothes, and sunny enough to make the pond water sparkle, but not enough to blind. Revali supposes the ceremony was supposed to be joyous, but with the princess’s depressed tone and dull expression, it felt like she was giving Link a death sentence. Plus, with only the six of them there, he thinks the whole thing was entirely unnecessary. Still, now that the day is done, he can enjoy some palace service, and he’s not going to squawk about that. 

The rest of the champions are still chatting over cocktails in the parlor, splayed out over the lavish lounges. The princess had excused herself quite early, and Link hadn’t been able to join, having other duties to attend to. Revali doesn’t exactly mind Urbosa’s company, nor Mipha’s if he’s being quite honest, despite her obvious infatuation with Link, but Daruk can be quite trying. So, once the princess had left, he finds no reason to be so courteous as to remain, and retires himself. 

It’s still early in the evening, however, so he decides to walk through the grounds. He’s been to the castle before, of course. The king had thrown a party for the champions before Link had been appointed as the princess’s knight, so he’d had a chance to enjoy the castle’s splendor then. But he hadn’t done much exploring, too caught up in the celebration. Despite this being only a short visit, only a few days, he figures he can take in the sights a little better while the castle is calm. 

He walks through the greenhouse, full of herbs and beautiful plants, then through several parlors before he makes his way outside. The walkways are wide and immaculately paved, with several servants bustling up and down, carrying baskets or pushing carts. He supposes this is the time where they run many of their errands, when the royals are all tucked inside. 

He eventually comes to a staircase leading underground, and from it he hears clanging. A training room, perhaps.  _ It wouldn’t be bad to check their setup _ , he thinks as he makes his way down.  _ Just to compare _ . 

It’s clearly a guard’s chamber, with all the pomp and grandeur of the main rooms stripped away. There are weapons both hung up and left to lean on the walls, and a table with stools where two soldiers sit with cards. As Revali enters the area, he sees there are two levels - the bottom one has more weapons, spare armour, and dummies set up with wooden weapons next to them. This is where he finds Link. 

It’s a wonder that Revali keeps simply running into him, despite his aversion. More of a wonder that he doesn’t just leave. He doesn’t know why he can’t get his feet to move, why he cannot tear his eyes away from the swordsman. Like there’s a magnetic force keeping him stuck on the staircase, watching Link from above. 

He’s practicing on a dummy, wooden sword in hand, a hefty metal shield in the other. The weight imbalance should be throwing him off, but the way he moves is graceful, precise. His tunic is off, and he’s soaked in sweat, making Revali wonder how long he’s been at this. Lightning fast, he jumps around the dummy’s side to slash it - glances away mid attack to lock eyes with Revali - and backflips away to gain distance for a lunge. The burning focus in his eyes raises Revali’s feathers, more intense, more present than he’s ever seen him. 

“He’ll be done in a minute, if you’re looking to speak with him,” one of the soldiers from the table calls to him, jerking his attention away. A surge of annoyance flares up in him, but he settles it. “Been there for a few hours, now, and he was sparring earlier. Shouldn’t be much longer.”

Hours of that. He wonders if his focus has built during his training, or if he’s kept it at that level the whole time. Revali doesn’t want to think about how easily he can relate to that, so he doesn’t. 

“No, I simply wanted to see the facilities,” Revali replies to the soldier, but he casts another look at Link. His shield is up, obscuring his face, his muscles pulled taut and sharp as he practices side hops. 

“We’ve got some open grounds outside the town, if you’re interested,” the soldier says. “The sparring happens there, where there’s more room. I’m sure some of us would appreciate some tips from one of Hyrule’s champions. If you have the time.”

Link finally stops after a final spin attack, panting hard, his hair plastered to his face. “Perhaps,” is all Revali says. He stays a moment longer, watches Link drop the sword and shield to the side and grab a towel. He looks over his shoulder at Revali, and the fire from earlier has dwindled drastically. In fact, he looks exhausted - unfocused eyes drooping, jaw slack. It’s odd, and somehow entirely unappealing. 

When Link turns away to wipe his face, Revali takes it as his cue to leave. He gives a quick nod to the soldiers and quickly makes his way outside, hoping he can remember the way back to his room. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> noooo dont use harsh training as an unhealthy coping mechanism for the obscene amounts of pressure placed on you since you were a toddler ahaha youre so sexy


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> link fights a lynel

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ok usually i suck at fight scenes but i think this slaps. also i was reading back and saw all my mistakes from the previous chapters sO i took off my clown shoes and fixed them. sorry you had to see me slipping into second person pls tell me if i do it again its an accident i swear. I Swear. 
> 
> anyways if ur uncomfy w blood and fighting and stuff maybe skip this! cause thats most of it.

Revali isn’t chosen often for survey work, being the village’s favourite, but the one supposed to do it has idiotically injured himself, so of course it’s up to Revali to save the day. He could be using the time for training, but honestly, he’s completely mastered Revali’s Gale now, and with the children finally starting to come to the flight range, it’s no longer a place that gives him reprieve. So instead, he’s flying over the tundra, looking for anything unusual the village should be concerned about. 

He’s just starting to think about making a pit stop at the stable when he spots them - the unmistakable white horse of the Hyrule royal family, and a large pack horse just behind. It’s clearly the princess and Link, though he can’t imagine why they’re in such a desolate place. 

He spots the lynel next. Only a kilometre away, purple and silver stripes adorning it, with an enormous sword strapped to its back. Revali’s never faced a lynel personally, but he’s heard they’re deadly - likely no problem for a skilled archer such as himself, but perhaps getting the princess caught in the crossfire isn’t such a good idea. 

He swoops down to the pair, diving quickly, the snow and freezing air stinging his eyes a little. Right before landing, he fluffs out his wings, allowing him to float to a perfect stop just in front of the two. They quickly stop their horses. 

“Princess,” he greets, “I didn’t realize you were in the area.”

“Revali. A pleasure, as always,” she replies. “We hadn’t planned to stop in at the village this time. Actually, we’re surveying the tundra. I’ve heard rumors there’s a strange maze to the northeast of here.”

He’s heard of such a place as well. None of the Rito have gone near it, as far as he knows, but he’s caught tales of Hylians going in and never finding their way out. Likely all talk, given that it’s a maze, after all. 

“Apparently,” the princess continues, “there might be a shrine in it.”

That’s news to him, but not particularly interesting news. “You should know, before continuing, that there’s a lynel just under a kilometre away. You’d be wise to return to the stable. Unless you’d like me to take care of it?” he asks, crossing his wings over his chest. 

The princess doesn’t seem the least bit concerned. Neither does Link. “Thank you for the warning, but that won’t be necessary. Link is quite adept at handling all sorts of monsters.” She doesn’t sour when she says his name this time - Revali wonders if something has changed between them. Certainly, now that he’s looking, she seems much less stiff. “I’m sure he wouldn’t turn down your help, though.”

Link glances between the two of them before nodding in Revali’s direction. Then he turns to the princess and makes several strange motions with his hands. The princess turns to Revali. “He asks what colour the lynel is.”

Perhaps it’s a sort of language? Not one Revali knows, though it looks like it’s more specific to Hylians, given the required movements. Possibly Gerudo and Zora, with their, well. Hands. “Silver, with purple stripes,” he replies. He doesn’t want to embarrass himself by showing his lack of understanding. 

Link makes a few more motions at the princess, then gets his horse to move. The princess stays put. “He’ll be back when he’s finished. It won’t be long,” she tells Revali, full of confidence. “You can wait with me, if you’d like.”

“You aren’t accompanying him?” Revali asks. 

She shakes her head. “No, this breed of lynel is the most dangerous. It’s no problem for Link, but they have extremely powerful bows that shoot three shock arrows at once. Truly, it’s simply faster this way, without any distractions. Should I need him, I have a whistle.” She pulls the metal out of the pocket of her coat, showing it to Revali. It’s engraved with the symbol of Hyrule, hanging from a silver chain. She tucks it away again quickly. 

How fast would the fight be finished, if Link is comfortable leaving the princess alone, Revali wonders. He’s never seen that swordplay in action - his mind immediately goes to when he saw Link training, flushed and dead-eyed, and he wonders how he looks in a real fight. The one who wields the sword that seals the darkness - how does he move?

The princess catches him staring off behind Link, and chuckles behind her hand. “You want to watch?” she asks, breaking him from his thoughts. 

He manages not to show any signs that he’s startled by her question, and instead rolls his eyes. “He’s no use to us if he gets himself killed, now is he,” he says, readying himself for takeoff. 

She laughs, clear and sharp in the cold air, like a dinner bell. “Yes, I tell him that often, but I doubt he’ll ever listen.”

The updraft hits and Revali’s up before he really registers what the princess has said, and he stamps down any jerks in his chest before he starts thinking too hard. He flies higher than he needs to, trying to reach a more biting chill. He doesn’t go so high as to lose a clear look of the lynel - just enough to let him shiver out any unneeded emotion. Then he dives, coming into range should he be needed. 

Link dismounts his horse two hundred metres away from the lynel. He gives it a few good pets on its snout, and Revali can just make out his mouth moving - if he’s not mistaken. Then he starts trekking towards the beast, quicker than Revali has seen from a Hylian without snow boots. 

Link sees the lynel before it sees him. He pulls out his bow - and the glint of gold tells Revali that it’s a royal bow - and cocks a bomb arrow in the string. He crouches, still as ice, then pulls back the string. Slow, slow - careful not to make even a creak as he pulls it taught. Then a shot so fast even Revali can’t follow it, and the explosion hits the lynel right in the face. 

The kicked up powder obscures Revali’s vision for a moment, and then Link bursts through it, shining sword in hand, and slams it through the lynel’s neck, spurting blackened blood. The lynel howls, and falls on one front knee. Link skirts around to its back, and climbs right on top to stab repeatedly at its spine. The lynel quickly regains control of itself and bucks Link off, throwing him up - he twists to land on his feet and doesn’t pause when he hits the snow and sinks. The lynel pulls its sword off its back, bigger than any sword Revali’s ever seen, and jagged. Link circles it, coiled and tense. 

The lynel charges him, sword swinging wide, and Link backflips just as the beast starts swinging it down, throwing up another burst of powder. This time, though, Revali can see Link rushing the lynel, faster than should be possible - like time has slowed for him as he slashes at the lynel’s chest. In his final cut he drags his sword across the beast’s side as it charges forward, cutting it clean open. Revali can hear the lynel grunt from even his vantage point as it stops to turn and face Link. It goes in for another charge, this time low to the ground for extra speed - but Link dodges, and the lynel gets stuck in the snow for a moment, allowing him to run up and jump back on, just as he did earlier. He does the same thing as before, striking it’s spine while it heaves and bucks, showering blood with its struggle. He’s thrown off again, but pulls another perfect landing. 

The beast roars with enough force to compact the snow around it. It pulls out its sword again, and swings it in its hand as it moves onto its back legs. Link sprints away from it - is he running away? No, Revali thinks, he’s not heading for the princess. He stops six metres from the lynel, just as it throws itself, sword-first, into the ground, flames erupting all around it for five metres. Link pulls out his bow in that moment, and starts shooting volley after volley of arrows, each striking the lynel in its head and chest. The beast stumbles a bit getting up, but manages. Link keeps shooting as he makes his way back, jogging instead of running to keep his aim steady. The lynel pulls out its own bow, an enormous, hulking piece of metal, and readies five shock arrows in it. The bow is so large it manages to accommodate every arrow, with room to spare. It aims. Revali can see that it’s dead on. 

He pulls out his own bow and has shot three arrows into the lynel’s head before he even registers what he’s doing. It stuns the beast; Link throws his bow on his back and switches to his sword before sprinting back, not even looking up to acknowledge the shot. The lynel starts standing up unsteadily, but by the time it’s fully upright Link has already used the force of his sprint to ram his sword into its chest, all the way up to the hilt. 

It struggles, rising up, and Link fully twists the sword. The lynel howls, so loud Revali wouldn’t be surprised if the ground shook. It slumps onto one knee, reaching out to Link, trying to get a hold of him - and then falls to its side, blood pulling hot and fast around it. Link pulls out the sword. 

He looks up at Revali. It’s those same dead eyes - the same as the ones he saw in that guard’s room, low and dulled. The flush of exertion on his face making him look feverish. The slump of his shoulders. And calm, calm breaths - barely a stir in the air, his chest moving so little Revali can hardly tell if it is at all. 

Then he turns and wipes his sword in the snow, cleaning it thoroughly of blood before sheathing it and walking back to his horse. Revali watches him for a few moments longer before going off to continue his survey, flying higher to freeze out any contemplations that might plague him. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> link was never meant to be a fighter i will die on this hill I WILL DIE ON THIS H


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> party time. urbosa has all the braincells of the champions and she hands them out as needed. also the only person who can put revali in his place

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is the longest chapter yet at over 3000 words dont expect this in the future because it probably will not happen. also i didnt proofread this so lmk if theres any errors

The desert is so much hotter than Revali is used to. It’s hard to remember why he came instead of someone else - it’s not like he can enter Gerudo Town, and crossing not only the highlands, but the desert itself, is a chore. And now he’s stuck here, in the sweltering heat, feeling like he’s going to start molting over how hot he is. 

It’s a big festival that the Gerudo host every year. He’s been once before, as a youngster still in the beginnings of his training. The elder had brought him for the trip as a present of sorts. He’s alone this year, the elder having fallen ill, and the wondrous feeling he had as a child at all the glamour is no longer there. 

He can see the decorations in town even from over the wall - lanterns, streamers, and jewelled ornaments covering every available surface. Outside the walls are hundreds of tents, and roll after roll of extravagant carpets to make it easier for guests to walk. Some tents are stalls for vendors, some for entertainment, some for sleeping, and some, like his, are miniature parlors. His own, and several others, are closed off - little oases from the hectic party outside. Though the official kickoff of festivities is tonight, he’s already making use of it to hide from all the setup. 

Or he was, until Urbosa walks in with three underlings in tow. 

“Ah, Revali,” she greets him, not sounding the least bit startled. “I was wondering where you had snuck off to. Is the heat getting to you?”

He wants to grumble and whine, but holds back. He doesn’t want to seem childish. “I simply wanted some peace from all the racket,” he says, which is true enough. No need to let on his hint of heat exhaustion. 

Urbosa laughs. “Yes, I’m sure it’s quite different from your tranquil little village. I’ll have someone bring you an iced drink.” She snaps her fingers with a glance over her shoulder, and one of the servants dashes off. “I hope you’ll join us properly in the evening,” she continues, turning back to him. Her expression is pleasant, but he can detect a hint of something akin to smugness there. “The desert cools quite a bit at night - I’m sure you’ll find it much more palatable. Until then, perhaps you should find a vendor selling sapphire jewelry.”

He should’ve known she would catch on. Sharpest of the bunch, Urbosa. “Perhaps I’ll take your advice, unsolicited though it may be,” he says, mimicking her tone. The servants with her bristle, but she just keeps that pleasant smile going. 

“I wouldn’t want you to miss out on something we’ve prepared so hard for,” she says. “It would bring us much honor if the representative of the Rito were seen enjoying himself.”

He stiffens slightly, then shifts to sit up properly, no longer lounging on his side. “After my drink, perhaps,” he says, a little more respectfully. “When the afternoon has cooled.”

That seems to do the trick, the servants relaxing from their tenseness. Urbosa never changes her expression - and really, what did he expect from the chief? “It gladdens my heart to hear that. I’ll expect to see you at the beginning ceremonies, at least. My duties will keep me occupied until then, I’m sure.”

“Naturally,” he says. The servant who rushed off appears again, holding some sort of cocktail filled with ice. Urbosa casually waves as she exits the tent, allowing passage for the servant so she can set the drink on the side table to Revali’s right. 

“Please enjoy the beverage - it’s made with hydromelon, so it should cool you off for a while. It’s a special drink Lady Urbosa crafted for her guests.” The servant doesn’t bow or shy away from him like the ones at Hyrule Castle do, but she does give him a respectful nod before exiting, no doubt needed for much more important things than a drink. 

The drink, when he looks at it, is even wrapped in a silk handkerchief to prevent it from slipping from his hold. With such attention to detail, he has to try it. At least to cool him down.   
  


* * *

The beginning ceremonies start at seven, in the enormous tents set up right at the entrance to town. There are rows of tables laden with food, both familiar and exotic, and seat pillows littered around the edges. A few of the elderly are seated, as well as a group of clearly intoxicated young Gerudo women. Urbosa has either had her throne carried to the edge of the tent and placed on the highest platform there, or had a second one brought in; she’s seated with two guards on the lower platforms next to her, each decked in gold armour. She, herself, is covered in jewels - a ruby circlet around her forehead, enormous gold hoops in her ears and her nose, bangles around her wrists and ankles giving flashes of sapphire and ruby. There are dark markings on her skin as well, and he recognizes many of them as traditional Gerudian designs. And along with it all, her champion’s sash tied around her hips, contrasting beautifully with the gold chest piece she wears, halfway between armour and ornamentation. He feels as if he should have dressed up more, but he has obtained sapphire for his own accessories, and he’s in his nicest outfit, so he decides not to worry about it. At least, not too much. 

He and the other champions stand near the throne, on both sides of Urbosa and in front of the guards. Each of them is wearing their champion’s garb, with the princess wearing a white gossamer dress - very different from anything he’s seen her in before, and much better dressed than the rest of them, excluding Urbosa. Mipha, of course, is wearing her traditional princess adornments, but they’re much more subdued in comparison, and Daruk and Link haven’t dressed up at all. Or - wait - 

Link has, actually, done something different. He has little braids framing his face, with a desert flower tucked into one. He looks a little pink from where he stands behind the princess, but his face is quite a bit more relaxed than Revali has come to expect from him. He looks younger - less severe - and Revali has to stop himself from studying the knight. 

Urbosa stands and gives two claps of her hands, drawing the attention of the whole crowd. It quiets down quickly.   
“Honoured guests,” she calls, her voice ringing through the air, “tonight we begin our celebration of the Seven Heroines, divine protectors of our people.” Cheers erupt around him, mostly from the Gerudo. Urbosa waits for them to quiet before continuing. “The Seven Heroines have watched over us for longer than our first writings of them. We, the Gerudo, are a people of survival - from our desert and its dangers, from our own biology, and of course, from the Calamity that has threatened us, even from within our ranks, since time inconsequential.” A hush falls as Urbosa speaks of Ganon, though her voice holds no tremor - no fear, no dramatic seriousness. Just confidence. “The Seven have taught us of skill,” she continues, “with a spear, with a pot, with our words. They have taught us of spirit, to fight and to thrive, in celebration and in worship. Endurance, to withstand the sun and weighty sand, to travel in search of ones with which to continue our legacy. Knowledge - for only wisdom can effectively guide us.” Revali can see many people gazing at her with open admiration, entranced. “Flight, giving us our independence and liberty. Motion to push us into a future we can hold pride in - the advancement of our culture, city, and community. And gentleness, temperance to the power we all hold, granting us humbleness and home.” 

She pauses, letting the crowd take in her words as she takes a step forward, assuming a powerful stance. “These are the teachings of the Seven Heroines. These are what the Gerudo embody, and pass on to all the peoples of Hyrule. We celebrate these for eight days - tonight, for all, and then one day for every Heroine - to pay respects to our protectors, and to show pride in all that we are. Tomorrow we will show our skill, then our spirit, endurance, knowledge, flight, motion, and finally gentleness, a day of rest and recovery. As Chief of the Gerudo, I am honoured to share these with you, and hold great pride in doing so. And so,” she finishes, arms spreading wide, tilting her head to the sky, “let the festival begin!”

The crowd erupts in cheers, and a sudden cacophony of booms denotes the first fireworks, exploding in bursts of red and gold in the darkening sky. Music starts up at the same time, different from anything Revali has ever heard but still clearly dance music. He’s nearly knocked to the side by a partygoer, and then by Daruk rolling his arms in excitement, pumping himself up. Mipha, to Daruk’s right, is beaming from ear to ear. Even Link, severe, stoic Link, is smiling, right along with the princess.  _ It’s different from the one he has when he cooks _ , Revali thinks. Then he realizes what he just thought and berates himself. He shouldn’t even  _ remember _ that. 

Mipha interrupts his internal dialogue, thankfully. “Do you think they have any fish dishes here?” she asks, her excitement clear. “I’m so curious as to how they’d prepare it. It must be a rare delicacy for them.”

“I’m more interested in the rock roasts Urbosa said she’d prepared,” Daruk says. “I’ve gotta snag some before they’re all gone!”

_ Impossible _ , Revali thinks. “I’m sure they have just about everything here, with how ridiculously huge the party is,” he says. He means for it to sound sharp, but he spots a beautifully decorated fruit pie with wildberries and apple, and can’t stop himself from staring after it. 

“Well, we better make sure we enjoy it all!” Daruk says, grinning. “Be a shame if all Urbosa’s hard work wasn’t appreciated. Hey, after we eat, how ‘bout a dance?” He turns to Mipha, who glances towards the princess and Link before turning back to Daruk. Painfully obvious. 

“That sounds lovely,” she says. “Though I’ve never danced to such lively music before.” 

“No better chance to try,” Daruk says, walking towards the tables of food. “Nobodies lookin’ at you at a party like this. Even if you mess up, nobody’ll care.” He turns to Revali as he walks, and he realizes he’s been quite still this whole time. “Are you comin’, or are you gonna stand there sulking?”

“I’m not  _ sulking _ ,” Revali insists, his feathers fluffing up. Mipha gives him a kind smile that shows she doesn’t believe him. “I’m simply determining what I’d like to do.”

“Hope it’s not hiding out in a tent,” Daruk says, which irks Revali more than it should. “C’mon, eat with us.” He doesn’t give him much choice, because he grabs Revali’s shoulder and guides him towards the tables. Mipha giggles behind her hand. “There’s probably some nutcake or something. Birds like nuts, right?”

“I am  _ not _ a common wood pigeon,” he says indignantly, but he does think back to that fruit pie. Or perhaps they have some risotto… 

Daruk just gives a mighty laugh in response. He’s so large that he clears a path right through the throng of people - all Revali and Mipha have to do is stand next to him to get where they want to go. Mipha takes him all the way to the end of the tables to get clam chowder, and Revali manages to sneakily maneuver him so he can snag some curry pilaf. Daruk piles a plate with rock, which, naturally, he is the only one eating. Revali is somewhat shocked to find that it’s been prepared in a variety of ways, and there are several different kinds - some from the Gerudo Highlands, some sandstone, some volcanic, and more that Revali can’t recognize, nor does he really care. Daruk makes some starry-eyed comment about never having cold rock roast before, and Revali tunes him out after that. 

There’s no seating available, so they stand on the sidelines and watch everyone dance as they eat. Some are clearly trained, in outfits that move like water and covered in gold, leaping so high they nearly touch the roof of the tent. Others are simply having fun, hips shaking, friends twirling each other in circles in a mix of Gerudo and Hylian dances. It’s quite mesmerizing to watch, even for Revali, who’s never danced a day in his life. 

Daruk finishes his food astonishingly fast and gives his stomach a good drum. “Ah, that was delicious. Best roast I ever had, probably. The thought of stir-fried rock with different kinds - incredible. Gonna have to ask for that recipe.”

“The food really is incredible,” Mipha agrees. “I’ve never had salmon before. The risotto is simply outstanding. Revali, did you get a chance to try it?”

“No,” he says. Actually, he intentionally avoided it. “I can have salmon anytime I like at home. If I’m coming all the way to the desert, it should be worth my while.” 

Mipha laughs, airy and delicate. “I understand that. We only get fish from the river back home, and it’s not cold enough for salmon, so this really is a treat for me.”

“All this talk of food is making me want seconds,” Daruk says, peering over at the tables once more. Revali and Mipha are barely half-finished their plates. “But I think some dancing will help the digestion so I can eat more later without feeling sick. Always the worst feeling. Princess, you in?”

Mipha looks surprised for a moment, her mouth full of food, but she quickly swallows it. “It would be my pleasure, Daruk. Revali, would you be kind enough to hold my plate?” She hands it off to him before he even has a chance to refuse, taking Daruk’s outstretched hand. She has to reach up quite high to take it, and he’s bent a little to his side to make it easier, making them look downright ridiculous. Revali takes a seat on the carpet, setting Mipha’s plate beside him so he can continue eating. 

He watches them for a few minutes, awkwardly spinning around, barely holding each others hands. He thinks Mipha’s lucky Daruk hasn’t stepped on her feet. To be honest, though, they look like they’re having a lot of fun, spinning and bouncing around like children. 

When it gets too boring for him he turns his gaze away, surveying the party. It’s much more spread out now that people have gotten their food. The stalls that he can see are bustling, and there’s a few platforms with people performing on them. One is doing card tricks, another a puppet show. He skims over them, barely registering. 

He spots Link and the princess in the corner of the room, sitting on cushions close to Urbosa’s now-empty throne, surrounded by four empty plates - one close to the princess, the other three to Link. They’re talking in those strange hand gestures again, quite a bit more animatedly than last he saw them. The princess is laughing away, face free of the stress she normally carries in it, as Link tells a story - at least, Revali thinks that’s what’s happening. He continues, and the princess manages to stop laughing to pay proper attention. She interrupts him at some point, shuffling closer on her hands and knees, clearly riveted. He wants to know what on earth Link could be saying that has her so enraptured, so close to him - 

“Enjoying yourself?” a voice asks above him, and he rips his gaze away from the pair to look up. It’s Urbosa, still bejewelled, holding a rather large glass of wine. 

He clears his throat. “It’s certainly quite the party,” he says, avoiding the question. 

“We spent many weeks planning it,” she replies before taking a swig from her glass. “I have a few reserved tents for myself and the other champions, should you need a moment's reprieve. I understand that the festivities can be quite overwhelming when you’re not used to them.” 

He hums. “I might take you up on the offer later.”

A quirk of her eyebrow. “Oh? Has something caught your eye?” She makes a pointed glance at Link in the princess, who are still talking animatedly. “Eavesdropping, perhaps?”

There’s an uncomfortable twinge in his gut that he can’t quite name. “Of course not,” he says reproachfully. “They aren’t even speaking - and if they were, how could I hear them over all this noise?”

“Oh?” Urbosa says, swirling her glass. “My mistake, then. I thought you understood sign language, and were paying attention to Link’s story. One of my favourites, that one.” She takes another sip - a smaller one, probably more as something to do rather than to enjoy the drink. 

_ So that’s what it’s called _ , Revali thinks. “Rito have no need of it,” he says, carefully avoiding letting on that he had no idea what it was. “We can’t make the motions.”

“There should be a book or two on it in the royal family’s library,” Urbosa says nonchalantly. “The princess lent me a copy to brush up on my knowledge. It’s quite comprehensive.”

Revali suppresses the urge to ask more about the book, remaining still - likely too still, by all accounts, but better than overeager. Silent, too, as Urbosa refuses to elaborate. The tense space lasts only about thirty seconds, but it feels like several minutes. 

“You should ask him to dance,” is what Urbosa breaks the silence with. “Before one of his other suitors beats you to it.”

Finally, he whips around, and she gives him a wink over her glass before walking over to the pair, crouching beside the princess and wrapping her arm around her shoulders. After a few quick words, Urbosa leads the princess to where the others are dancing - she bows, and the princess curtsies. He looks back at Link, who’s now sprawled half on the carpet, half in the sand, the picture of content. One of his braids brushes along his jaw, wind rustling his clothes. 

“Thank you for watching my food,” Mipha says, startling him, just like Urbosa had - worse, even. His feathers fluff out in surprise. “That was so fun - it’s so hard to keep up with Daruk, though. I sorely need a break.”

He tries very hard to unruffle himself, mimicking Link’s posture. “It was quite the entertainment to watch,” he replies; he sounds faraway, even to his own ears. 

Mipha goes a little pink. “Oh, I do hope nobody else thought so. I know we must have looked silly, but it really was quite enjoyable.” She sits beside him and takes her plate, glancing over at Link. His own gaze follows hers against his will. Link looks just as he did before. 

“I wonder if he would like to dance as well,” Mipha says, a little breathlessly. His gut clenches so hard he feels he’s going to be sick. 

“Go ask him,” he says, voice coming out rougher than intended. “Before someone else does.”

She looks at him oddly, then sets her jaw. “You’re right,” she says. Then she shovels a few mouthfuls of food down, does a hard swallow, and stands up to march over to Link, who perks up when he sees her. Revali doesn’t stick around to watch the rest - he’s seen enough dancing for one night. It’s about time he made use of one of those tents Urbosa mentioned. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i don't dance from high school musical 2 plays in the background


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> day 4 of the festival. the heat sucks ass and there's some uncomfortable talks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> long time no see ive been busy working on an original serial, writing a homestuck fanproject, and being depressed. this chapter is borderline nonsensical bullshit i wrote bc my brain decided to hyperfixate on link again. idk if ill show more of the festival after this but enjoy this weird combination of avoiding heatstroke and exploring spiritual beliefs  
also i didnt proofread this literally at all so sorry for mistakes

It’s the fourth day of the festival, celebrating the third heroine - the one representing endurance. Aptly named, apparently, since he’s trudging east through the desert with a parade of of people towards one of the Gerudo historical sites. It’s officially called a temple, dedicated to the seven heroines of the festival, but the way Urbosa described it to him made it sound more like a bunch of statues. 

He’s been run a little ragged already through the festival. As one of the champions, he’s been forced to participate in every event - not as a main focus, of course, given that the festival is celebrating the Gerudo people, but rather as something of an attraction. Yesterday he had sung a traditional Rito battle song, and the day before that participated in an archery contest. Neither of them were particularly difficult, but he also had to sit in the blazing sun and watch all the main events as well. Last night he had managed to escape the feast held in the evening, instead eating in a quiet tent by himself, but that’s been his only reprieve other than sleep. And today is testing him even more. 

He’s not really built for this sort of thing. He has a stock of heat-suppressing elixirs with him to fight off the heat, but Rito simply aren’t built for this sort of climate and terrain. His feet sink much deeper into the sand than the others, making walking a struggle. He’s not even sure if he can pull himself out of the sand enough to launch himself into the air - and certainly the oppressive heat doesn’t make it any easier either. He wishes he had stayed behind with Mipha, who couldn’t make the trek else she completely dry herself out. 

They shouldn’t be too far from the temple though, he thinks. The sun is quite high in the sky, and they left at six in the morning - it’s supposed to take about half a day to get there, Urbosa had said, though he wouldn’t be surprised if it took longer with how bad he’s probably slowing everyone down. He’s remained at the back of the group, along with Daruk and the princess. Link is behind him by about a meter, but he’s sure this is more to guard the princess rather than because he’s struggling with the sand. 

The princess, for her part, is doing her best to look as if she isn’t struggling, but Revali can tell she’s likely having just as hard a time as he is. Not that he can help her. Daruk, who’s sinking into the sand just as bad as he is, puts his hand on the princess’s back. “You okay there?” he asks. “I could put you on my shoulder and carry you. We Goron are built for this kinda heat.”

She shakes her head vehemently, even though Revali can see sweat running down her face in rivulets. “Thank you, Daruk, but I must do this. It wouldn’t be fair to everyone else if I took the easy path.” 

Revali wishes he could say the same. The only thing keeping him going right now is his pride. 

Daruk and the princess go back and forth a bit more, but Revali can’t really follow the conversation. Not that he’s trying, but the main reason is his lightheadedness. Maybe he needs another elixir - his eyes keep getting lost in the shifting sand, and even at midday he’s not sure he should be feeling quite this hot. The world lurches for a moment -

A hand steadies him against his shoulder as he closes his eyes, trying to get his bearings. Its firm, and just as hot as the air around him, gripping him gently. Revali wobbles for a moment before blinking his eyes back open, able to see correctly again, and turns his head to look at Link’s worried face. He can’t even think of what to say - no rebuttal comes to his tongue. 

Link steps away once he’s sure Revali is steady, looking around for a moment. Then he jogs off, forwards and to the left, towards a small patch of hydromelons. Revali follows slowly, still fighting off his dizziness. He watches Link pulls the legendary sword off his back and starts cutting up the hydromelon with it. 

After grabbing several large, choppy slices from the fruit, he jogs back to Revali and hands him one. He takes it, not sure what else he should do, but he doesn’t eat it. Link won’t stop looking at him, clearly waiting for him to start eating. 

“You use the legendary sword of Hyrule, the blade that seals the darkness, to cut fruit? ” Revali asks incredulously. Link shrugs. And he’s not sure if it’s the lightheadedness or the sheer absurdity of the situation, but Revali just starts laughing. 

He can’t stop himself. He hasn’t had a laugh like this in years - deep from his belly, eyes squeezed shut, hardly able to keep a grip on his slide of hydromelon. It doesn’t last long, but it’s immensely satisfying, and he can’t quite bring himself to regret it. Even as he opens his eyes and sees Link’s expression - something filled with wonder and befuddlement. He can’t explain himself; he just shakes his head and starts eating the fruit, turning tos start walking with the procession again, who are a little farther ahead by now. Link lingers behind him for a moment before jogging ahead, distributing some of the fruit among those who need it and getting the group to slow down, giving him the chance to catch up. 

The hydration of the fruit perks him up and even cools him down some, clearing his head enough to focus on the rest of the journey. Now that he’s more himself, he can already see the statues in the distance - not too far, actually. He can’t imagine it should take more than forty-five minutes to get there, even with their current slow pace. Though the height of the statues could be playing tricks on him. They’re significantly bigger than he imagined, really. He thought they would be life-size, maybe a bit bigger, but these are probably fifteen meters tall. He can see how weathered they are, too, smooth sandstone that’s lost much of its original detail. Or at least, he assumes there would have been more detail originally. 

He’s correct, in the end. Just under forty-five minutes and they’ve arrived, filing into the site to stand in the middle of where the statues are circled. Even after the burst of energy the hydromelon gave him, Revali is just about ready to collapse. 

He doesn’t pay attention as Urbosa gives a speech about the heroines. Something about their legacy and the difficulty of creating the site - not things he cares to know, and he’s standing with the group rather than with Urbosa herself, so he can afford to ignore it anyway. He’s fairly sure Daruk isn’t paying attention either, so he’s not the only one. 

The speech isn’t long, thankfully, and afterwards several people start laying out blankets and pulling out food from their packs. He’s led to a very large blanket that Urbosa sits at, and the princess and Daruk are brought over as well. They’re served by a servant he thinks he’s seen with Urbosa before, a beautiful young woman with bright green lipstick, and he just focuses on replenishing his strength. Daruk and the princess clearly seem to have the same idea, though Urbosa doesn’t even seem winded. 

He realizes about halfway through their meal (which is a lovely charcuterie lunch) that Link isn’t with them, which seems odd. He looks around to find him. 

He’s standing a ways off from the group, and he seems to be… praying. Revali can see his mouth moving, but can’t hear a word he’s saying with the distance. His hands are pressed together, palms touching and fingers straight up, head tilted back in order to look at the heroines properly. It strikes Revali as something intensely private, and that he should look away, despite the fact that Link is doing it in clear view. 

“It’s a bit odd, isn’t it?” the princess says, pulling his attention. She seems much better now after eating, though her face is still quite flushed. “The praying.”

He’s not sure if she’s criticizing Link’s technique or commenting on the strangeness of the act itself. Revali’s never been all that spiritual, unlike many of his people. “I wouldn’t have expected it from him,” he says. 

“Neither would I,” the princess replies, “but I’ve seen him do it many times now. Always a ways off from other people. It’s the only time I’ve ever seen him speak, though I don’t know what he says.” 

“Really?” Urbosa asks, mild fascination in her voice. “Trying to keep the gods happy? Thanking them for his power?”

That doesn’t seem likely, at least to Revali. There’s some sort of deep peace on Link’s face he’s never seen before. Again, he’s struck with the notion that he shouldn’t be looking, and fully swivels his body to face away from him. 

“Maybe that’s it,” the princess says, the tinkle of a laugh lacing her words. There’s something sorrowful to it, and he can see Urbosa pick up on it as well. 

“I’m no good with that stuff,” Daruk says, scratching his head. “Never quite understood it. I believe what I can see and touch.” He shoves some rock in his mouth, chewing uncomfortably. 

“That’s not a bad way to live,” Urbosa says, which makes Daruk relax a bit. “I, too, look to what I can do in the present, and enjoy the life I have been given.” 

Daruk nods fervently, mouth still full of rock. He does a big swallow before speaking. “The way I see it,” he says, “you gotta do what you can do. Even if there’s a bunch of gods, you can’t rely on them - you gotta go after it yourself. Like you, princess.” 

The princess looks up from her food. She had been staring at it, her head bowed. “Pardon?” she says, blinking in confusion. 

Daruk gives a big grin. “Yeah! You know, with the divine beasts and all that research. I may not know exactly what you’re doin’, but doin’ the work you can do - that’s what I mean.”

The princess looks rather shaken by Daruk’s words, which doesn’t surprise Revali in the least, but she isn’t forced to reply as Link comes back precisely at that moment. He plops himself down between the princess and Daruk, and immediately starts grabbing food from the array in the middle of their circle. He makes no indication that he even heard their conversation, but Revali can feel the shift that his presence brings, and he knows the topic will be dropped. 

“All done?” Urbosa asks Link, and he nods, shovelling food in his mouth. The rest of them follow suit, quietly eating the rest of their meal. 

There’s some time between packing up and leaving the temple, during which the Gerudo of the group do their own prayers, quite different from Link’s. They kneel in the sand, some of them even bowing their heads to touch the ground. Some do this at each towering monument, some at only one, but the majority do it at the entrance, facing the entire circle. The princess does a quick prayer as well, closer to what Link had done, but he thinks this is more out of respect than real spirituality. He and Daruk stand off to the side, giving everyone space, and Link and Urbosa go around praying in front of each statue. Urbosa kneels, her head on the ground; Link simply stands beside her, arms loose at his sides, head tilted back and eyes closed. From across the temple, under the harsh sun, he looks as if he’s glowing. 

It takes upwards of half an hour to complete this, and by the time everyone in the group has gathered together again, Revali is starting to wonder if he’ll even make it back on foot. He can feel the heat exhaustion kicking in again, and he takes a long drink from one of his heat elixirs, realizing, unfortunately, that he doesn’t have that many left. The princess, stood next to him while Link helps Urbosa distribute the luggage among the party and pack up the last few things, seems to notice. 

“Will you be alright?” she asks him, looking pointedly at the belt pouches he's been storing his elixirs. 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he scoffs automatically, more rude than he really intended. He crosses his wings over his chest. “Will you? I seem to recall you struggling on the way here.” 

“True,” she concedes, and she looks a little embarrassed over it. “But this is my duty. I won’t slow anyone down.” She glances at her own pouch, slung across her back. “Though, admittedly, I’m not sure if I’ll have enough elixirs to stave off the heat…”

He sighs hard. Normally he’s not one for acts of kindness, but he doesn’t really want to deal with the princess collapsing during their walk back. And despite his standoffishness, he’s not cruel, so he rifles through his pouches and pulls out a few bottles of elixir to give to the princess. “Here,” he says gruffly. “This is all I can spare. There’s not any point in acting tough if you can’t follow through.”

She holds up her hands in protest, as if to push him away. “No, I couldn’t possibly. You need them; you have even less than I do left.” 

“I’m offering for your sake, you’re not stealing them from me,” he says, voice steeped in annoyance. She presses her mouth in a thin line, clearly disapproving. Then she glances over at Urbosa several times, brow furrowing, before dashing off to talk to her. After a short conversation (while he continues standing there, a little baffled), she jogs back. 

“Urbosa said you should fly ahead,” she says, already slightly out of breath, probably from the heat more than anything else. “Since we’re running later than expected. You’ll let them know back in town.” She beams at him. “You won’t need so many elixirs if you fly, right? You’ll get there a lot faster. Then we can both get back with our dignity intact.”

Gratefulness and indignance surge up inside him in equal measures. “I don’t need any excuses to have the easy way out,” he says bitingly. “I was just trying to be decent.”

“Well so am I,” she huffs, her cheeks puffing out. “I could not, in good conscience, take resources you need to get back without making sure you didn’t actually need them. Neither of us want to collapse on the way back, and if we don’t do it this way, both of us probably will.” She glares at him, as uncomposed as he’s ever seen her. He almost laughs. 

Instead, he sighs in defeat, too tired to argue. “Fine,” he acquiesces, “but don’t think of this as a favour.” 

She takes the elixirs from him finally. “I do not.” She relaxes as she tucks the elixirs away in her pouch, annoyance draining from her. “Thank you, Revali. I do appreciate the gesture.” 

He nods, unsure how to reply, and goes about making sure everything on him is secure. When he’s certain, he goes over to one of the statues, where the ground is solid. He shakes out residual tension from his body, readies himself, and takes off. 

The sand he whips up rises with him, becoming something of a fountain, and he’s glad he's far enough away from the group that it wasn’t whipped into them. He’s not high enough to see the faces of the statues - not even close - and there’s not enough wind to pull him up to see. Enough to keep him airborne, though, which is all he needs to get back to Gerudo Town. Able to spread his feathers, air gliding through them, cools him down, too. And here, soaring over the procession in the desert, he enjoys his own moment of serenity, separate from temples and gods and ideals. It’s just him and the wind and the sky. And that’s all, he thinks, that he needs. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> whats a mob to a king whats a king to a god whats a god to a nonbeliever


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> zelda is Smart TM. revali and link spar. these are unrelated events.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> the link loving parasite in my brain is still there so i churned out another chapter which ive decided is the penultimate one. zelda is fun to write bc shes so expressive and a total oversharer so i can squeeze in a headcanon or two for her hehe. and she and revali actually have more similarities than you would think? its interesting  
anyways ive been thinking about rito and im like. how the fuck do they Do things? with wings? those are feathers dude! youve got hollow bones! how are you managing things like turning book pages and archery???? i dont know but im writing in the weirdness of their physical form every chance i get

The library at Hyrule Castle is, predictably, huge. Revali’s never seen such a large collection of books - the Rito pass on information and stories orally, and he finds it difficult to turn pages with his wings. But what Urbosa had said at the festival three months ago about sign language had been gnawing at him, so he’s here, under the guise of royal pleasantries. 

He’s not even sure how to navigate the library. There is a librarian, but he doesn’t want what he’s looking for passed on - he’s sure it would be obvious why he would be looking for the book that he is, and he’d rather that bit of gossip not be shared. Instead, he’s wandering the shelves, looking at titles to determine their section’s topic. So far he’s gone through several sections of scientific books, including astronomy, various disciplines of mathematics, and chemistry. There’s even a small alchemy section, which he finds somewhat absurd. It’s only when he reaches the end of the wall on the main floor that he reaches languages, just as he sees the princess and Link walk through the big doors. 

He immediately faces the shelves, trying to look absorbed in what he’s doing. He really shouldn’t feel awkward about it - they can’t know what he’s looking for just by where he’s standing, but he stills feels awkward about it. He can feel eyes on him, though, and when he glances he can see the princess walking over to him while Link goes over to the librarian. 

The princess looks pleased to see him. He can’t muster up the emotion himself. “Revali, I didn’t expect to find you here,” she says charmingly. “Are you looking for something?”

“Just browsing,” he lies easily. “It’d be rude to ignore such a… grand hall like this. I’ve never gotten the chance to fully appreciate the castle in my previous visits.”

She chuckles. “Yes, I suppose that’s true. We always have you and the rest of the champions running around for events, don’t we? I’m glad we can be a proper host this time.” Her eyes go half-lidded in a conspiratorial then, and she leans in. “Though Urbosa did pass on some info about a specific book you’re looking for?” she says quietly, glancing at Link, who has now settled himself at a table with a book of his own. 

His feathers puff up and he leans back, narrowing his eyes. “What exactly did she say?” he asks, knowing denial would only worsen the situation. 

The princess shrugs. “Just that you didn’t like being left out of the conversation, that’ all.” He relaxes a bit before she continues with, “I’m not blind, though. I see how you look at him.”

He stiffens, eyes going wide, and he nearly takes a step back. She laughs into her hand. “Oh, don’t look so surprised. I figured it out at the festival on my own. You and Mipha would have the same look on your face sometimes, and I’ve known about her feelings the whole time.” She smiles sympathetically at him, an expression he really, really does not like. 

“Does he…?” Revali asks, unable to stop the uncertainty in his voice. The princess shakes her head. 

“No. Or at least, he hasn’t said anything, but I wouldn’t worry. He’s pretty thick when it comes to anything other than fighting and food.” She says these words fondly, and he studies her for a moment. 

“Do _ you _-? he begins to ask, but she cuts him off. 

“Goddess, no,” she says, much louder than her previous quiet tone, and he can see Link, as well as a few other patrons, look at them. She seems to notice and quiets herself down again. “No, not in the least. I admit that I… care deeply for him, but not romantically. To be honest, I’m not even sure if I can…” She trails off at that, then shakes her head. “No, nevermind. That’s not important. You’re looking for an introductory sign language book, correct?” she asks, turning to face the shelves. 

He decides not to press her and resigns himself to his fate. “Yes. As Urbosa said, I don’t like being left out of the conversation.”

She hums, scanning the shelf. Then her eyes brighten and she crouches down, plucking a book from one of the bottom shelves. “Got it,” she says and hands it to him. He takes it. “Do you need any help with it?” she asks. “I mean, it’s not like you can practice on your own. It’s easier to understand in motion than from pictures.”

“I’ll manage fine by myself,” he says. His pride has been hurt enough for one day. 

The princess sighs deeply. “Revali, you can’t even turn the pages well,” she says, obviously exasperated. “I understand that you have your pride to maintain. Really, I do. How often do you think I’ve refused help for my own? But it’s much more humiliating to not accept offered help and fail in front of many people than to accept the help in the first place.” She crosses her arms over her chest. “I’ll even teach you in private. No guards, no gossip. We can make it look like you’re helping me with my research.” Her face goes slack and thoughtful for a moment. “Actually, in exchange, you _ could _ help me with my research.”

He goes back and forth in his head for a moment before clenching the book in his wing. “Fine,” he bites out. “If we’re both doing each other favours.”

The princess relaxes. “Perfect. We’ll work in my study tower, starting tomorrow. I should be free at around one, after I’ve finished my other studies and prayers. I’ll have lunch brought to us as well.” 

“Yes, yes, fine,” he grumbles sulkily. She beams at him. 

“I’ll see you tomorrow then, Revali,” she says, just as pleasantly as when she greeted him, and walks over to Link. He looks up from his book, signing something to her, but she just waves him off and grabs a book from the stack in front of him. He looks over at Revali, a puzzled, curious expression on his face, before turning back to his own book. 

* * *

It’s a week and a half into what Zelda has been calling their “training sessions” (and she has insisted on Revali calling her Zelda, citing that he calls Urbosa and Mipha by their names and getting quite pouty after his first refusal). He’s finding it… difficult, to say the least, to understand the language. Part of that, he’s sure, is that he’s trying to cram as much learning as he can into the two-week span that he’s staying at the castle. Zelda had assured him that he could take the book with him when he leaves, but if he’s going to have an actual teacher, he’s going to make use of it. 

They spend nearly every afternoon together, save for the couple that Zelda is out with the Sheikah scientists working directly with the Guardians. One such day he spent luxuriating through a spa treatment. The other he spent exploring the grounds, much like he did on his previous visit. He does not visit the training grounds, despite his itching to do so. 

This afternoon - a pleasant autumn day, still on the warm dregs of summer air - Zelda is running late, having had an impromptu lunch with the king. He’s in her study on his own, relaxed in an armchair, flipping through the book. It’s hard to memorize when he can’t make the motions himself, but he’s trying his best, covering words and looking only at the pictures, trying to recognize them on his own. 

He hears footsteps coming from the walkway connected to the chamber. They’re heavier than what he expects Zelda to sound like, so he closes the book and sets it on the messy side table. He’s glad he did when Link walks in, face just as severe as when he met him. It’s a little disconcerting, now; the last several times Revali’s seen him he’s been significantly more expressive. To see the stony face once again bothers him. 

“I assume the princess sent you?” Revali asks. He still hasn’t started calling her by name except in private. He’s sure Link wouldn’t actually care - probably does so himself, even - but it’s more reflex than anything. 

Link nods, pulling out his little notebook and piece of charcoal. When he shows what he wrote to Revali, it reads, _ She’s fighting with the king. She has to cancel today. _

Revali narrows his eyes. “What on earth could they be fighting about that requires a whole day of recovery from?” he asks, annoyed. The Zelda he’s come to know has a much better constitution than that, surely. 

Link’s face looks somehow more stony than before. He scribbles in his notebook again. _ She’s praying, _ it reads, the writing smudged in his haste. He doesn’t look happy about it. 

Revali doesn’t press any further. He’s well aware of the king’s priorities for Zelda. He certainly doesn’t make it a secret, and Zelda has mentioned it on her own before. He hadn’t realized just how controlling he could be, though. “I assume I would be making matters worse by asking for her presence directly?” he asks. Link nods jerkily. Revali sighs and gets up out of his chair. 

He goes to grab his book, but then thinks better of it, not wanting to draw too much attention to the volume in front of Link. Then he takes another look at the knight, noting his tenseness, his twitching fingers. There’s a restlessness about him that Revali knows all too well. 

“Do you want to spar?” tumbles out of his beak before he can stop himself. Link’s eyes snap to his, feverish and bright. He nods hard. Revali sucks in a breath. “Right. I can’t exactly do hand-to-hand, but -”

Link is already stalking out of the room, gesturing for Revali to follow him. He does so, a little baffled. 

The walk to their destination, unknown to Revali, is silent. Link power walks the whole way, which he struggles a bit to keep up with. He’s not exactly built for walking quickly. They don’t go to the guard’s chambers, nor to the training area Revali has been too before outside of town. Instead they make their way to a secluded garden area, where a few dummies and some weapons are set up. They’re simple things meant for common soldiers, but probably safer to use because of it. Link tosses him a bow and a quiver full of arrows, and he straps the latter across his chest. Link grabs a broadsword, but doesn’t take off the master sword on his back. Revali grabs a sword of his own, a small Rito-made one, and straps that on as well. 

They move away from the dummies and weapons and move farther onto the lawn. They face each other; neither of them speaks, no decision is made, but they settle into a duel format easily. Revali takes a breath and positions his wings. 

Link charges him just as Revali shoots up into the air. He clips his foot with the sword, nicking it, and it puts him off-balance enough to reduce his height in the air. Revali quickly, masterfully readies his bow with an arrow and shoots. Link dodges easily, though isn’t able to shoot back with no bow of his own. Revali lets himself fall to the ground, switching his bow for his sword in midair.

Link is on him to moment he lands, but he’s ready for it. Their swords clash, grinding metal hard on his ears. Link’s sword is longer than his, and his arm strength is superior, so Revali deflects as best he can, sidestepping and twisting his sword down. Link uses two hands despite not needing to and swings hard and obvious at him. He deflects again, using the force of the blow to his advantage. Link flicks his sword into one hand, readies it, and executes a spin attack that Revali only narrowly avoids, launching into the air again. He doesn’t try to shoot from his vantage point; instead, he maneuvers himself behind Link, who reacts quickly enough that the position loses its advantage. They continue like that for several minutes, Link making hard, obvious swings and Revali dodging them, neither hitting the other except for minor nicks. 

At first, Revali doesn’t understand his technique at all. It’s not the kind of swordplay he’s seen from the knight before, and though his skill level does make the attacks dangerous, they’re easy to avoid. Then, when Link readjusts mid-swing to avoid badly cutting Revali across the chest, instead barely slicing off a few wing feathers, he realizes that’s the point. Link is just working off steam; this isn’t real practice or training. Even so, Revali can see that dead look in his eyes that he always does when Link fights. It makes something sick swirl in his stomach. It looks so… wrong. 

The thought distracts him enough that he deflects a blow badly and it knocks him off balance. He stumbles backwards. Link’s expression lifts somewhat out of the dead look, reaching for him. Revali’s foot catches over a rock and he falls to the ground hard, landing on his back, knocking the wind out of him. He stares upwards for a moment, getting his bearings back. He hears Link drop the sword and walk over to him, reaching out a hand. He deftly wraps his wing around it and lets himself be pulled upright. 

They just stand there for a minute, calming their breaths, coming back to themselves. Link eventually pulls out his notebook and charcoal, writing a simple _ Thanks. _

Revali nods. “It seemed like a good opportunity,” he says, not nearly as dismissive as he would like. He takes another moment, and a deep breath, before saying anything more. “Next time we spar, fight properly. That was the worst technique I’ve seen in ages.” 

Link grins at him. It’s not like anything he’s ever seen before - not joyful or at peace. There’s something nasty and playful to it. Revali’s heart stutters. 

_ I still beat you_, Link writes in reply.

Revali scoffs. “I _ let _ you beat me to cheer you up. I was going easy on you because you were so out of it.” 

Link giggles into his fist. It’s hoarse and barely there and not at all melodious, but it makes Revali stare at him nonetheless. Link doesn’t seem to notice his expression, which he’s sure gives away his thoughts, as he writes a reply. 

_Next time I will fight to your standards, _he writes._ I owe you. _

“Don’t go crying when I come to collect,” Revali says as he walks over to where the other weapons are, intending to put his borrowed ones away. Link does that breathy, hoarse laugh again, and it sends a tingle through Revali. 

Link follows his lead and puts away his own borrowed sword before writing something again. _ I have to get back to the princess, _ it reads. _ Thanks again. _

“Don’t mention it,” Revali says gruffly. He really hopes Link takes it very literally. “Tell her I send my regards.”

Link nods before heading off, waving over his shoulder as he jogs away. Revali doesn’t wave back, instead trying to calm his heart rate. 

_ Fuck, _ he thinks, and then leaves, intending to take a long, very hot bath. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> link was never meant to be a fighter he was never meant to fight he was forced into this life and he doesnt enjoy fighting at all i stand by this and you will all be subjected to it


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Revali reflects on when he was alive.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> been a hot minute but i did finally manage to finish this after a mutual of mine read my fic. as always i forgo editing and give you angst instead.   
warning for scarring and heavy wounds so pls b aware!

It’s hard to feel the wind now. He thinks he misses that the most — he can’t enjoy the ripple of air through his feathers as a spirit, even as he sits atop Medoh, where he should be blasted by it, cold enough to numb his feet. It still disappoints him, even now when he can hardly manage to manifest a visible form. 

It’s been a century, now, since the Calamity. Give or take — he hardly cares to keep track anymore, but he’s watched his people since the fall, and can track the generations. He never got to continue his own family tree, of course, living on only as legend. At least, to them. And realistically, he likely wouldn’t have had children anyway - he never had time for pursuing anything but his sworn duty, and even if he did, he had no interest in women, and hardly any men. 

His mind circles back to Link, as it so often does now. He’s not sure why he still bothers to dwell on the knight — an old crush never coming to fruition is all it amounted to, really, but even now Revali can’t get him to leave his thoughts. He spends so little time thinking about the fate of the Rito, who seem relatively fine, nor the other champions, in his same predicament. Sometimes he thinks about Zelda; after she began helping him with sign language, they became much closer, and he’s spent no small amount of time grieving over her fate. But even that brings him back to Link. 

It’s what he regrets most out of his life, he thinks. Not the training, not his role as a champion. No, he would do all of that again, even knowing it would lead him to this. That he would be powerless. He would have even dedicated himself more soundly, abandoning his pride, fully devoting himself to the cause. But he knows that wouldn’t have done him much good; he hardly gives in to that bitterness anymore. No, his regrets are solely about Link. His own reluctance to admit his feelings, his stubbornness. Sometimes he regrets ever having met the Hylian, but that never lasts long, only welling up when his own rage at Ganon overcomes him. 

So many little things he never did anything about. He still has the sign language book, tucked away inside Medoh. He’s memorized everything in it in the past hundred years, easily. Even back then, he knew a lot of it. But he’d never let on that he had any knowledge, unable to figure out a way to make it sound like he’d one-upped Link when he still had so little knowledge. Zelda always berated him for that — she’d tell him how little Link cared about whatever rivalry he’d built up in his head, how excited he’d be to see Revali trying to learn. She even tried to convince him that she was sure Link reciprocated, but he still can’t quite believe that. He doubts Link ever considered romance, let alone had the intention of involving himself with it, and least of all with Revali. 

And other things — they never sparred more than the one time, and he never ate more of Link’s cooking. They never had an archery contest. He never even found out his surname, if he even had one. He’s acutely aware he knows hardly anything about Link, and the questions consistently eat away at him. 

He did, once, actually leave Medoh properly. Though that’s where his spirit is tied to, he can wander around Rito village and the surrounding area with relative ease - he often visits his old training grounds, appraising new warriors, or just sitting in the awful nostalgia of it all. But his spirit gets harder to maintain, in a way, the farther he gets from Medoh. But just once, he went all the way to the Great Plateau, where he knew, somehow, Link was. Perhaps just by intuition — he knew where the Shrine of Resurrection was, and he knew Zelda had gone to Ganon without her knight, and he knew Link wasn’t dead, just as he knew the other champions were. It would have taken him days and days to get there when he was alive, but the one benefit of being a ghost, he supposes, is that it makes travel remarkably quick. 

By the time he had gotten there, he couldn’t project himself in any way - nothing visible, no voice. He could barely maintain his own presence. But seeing Link lying in the pool, the only sign of life his shallow breathing, made it worth it. 

His wounds were still fully formed at that point, only a few years after the Calamity. In almost no clothing, Revali could see how badly the guardians had defeated him. A gash deep enough to almost hit ribs, looking so fresh that it should be bleeding, but sealed by the healing water. Red, angry burns splattered over his left shoulder and chest, the backs of his calves. Many of the smaller cuts were already healing properly, only showing up as tender, pink marks, but there were so many it made Revali sick. Not to mention the older scars he was already laced with, most of which Revali had never seen. Thick, red lines raised along his arms and chest, and dozens of smaller white ones littered all over his body. 

Revali had never before wanted to hold him more than he did in that moment. But even if he could manifest a form, he knew he wouldn’t be able to touch the other man — not this far away from Medoh, at least. He couldn’t even form a hand to try. 

He hated, then, how vulnerable he looked. He’d seen Link relaxed, of course, but this was a whole different kind of defenseless. His sleeping expression wasn’t one of peace, but of emptiness, and the limpness of his limbs spoke more of the dead than the resting. 

_ Bring him back _ , Revali thought, unable to properly vocalize. His own desperation had shaken him.  _ Bring him back. Bring him —  _

His tenuous form flickered out of existence, unable to handle the strain of distance and his rising distress, and then suddenly he was back on Medoh, facing the main control unit. 

—  _ back. _

An explosion in the present jolts him out of his reverie. He’s by the same main unit, on the back of Medoh, not bothering to maintain any visible form. Another explosion, this time from a different direction, towards the nose. He scrambles to attention, looks in the direction of the noise. 

He can hardly believe his eyes. There’s Link, hanging from what appears to be a paraglider, dressed in Rito garb. He uses the intense winds to glide to the right wing, then forcefully collapses the paraglider. Revali chokes a little —  _ not again _ — as Link swiftly pulls out his bow, aims, and fires a perfect shot at Medoh’s shield point. It shuts off. Link pulls open the paraglider again, using the wind to pull himself back up to adequate height, and maneuvers himself towards the tail. 

_ He’s going to board Medoh,  _ Revali thinks, and he can feel the shifting of Windblight Ganon’s corruption from within. His pride slips over him like an old friend, arrogance mixing with fear and a hellish kind of delight.  _ He’s alive. _

Suddenly, all his regrets seem trivial. If this fully kills him, that’s fine — he’ll take every ounce of pleasure he can watching Link destroy Ganon, knowing that that awful, heartbreaking deadness in Link’s eyes as he fights will be the last thing he sees. 


End file.
